


Point of No Return

by chimneysmoke (recension)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recension/pseuds/chimneysmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"ginny/neville, you asked me to help you stay warm"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Point of No Return

**Author's Note:**

> For the _Welcome Home_ Harry Potter LJ ficathon.
> 
> Original prompt: "ginny/neville, you asked me to help you stay warm"

Neville knew, even at the time, that he would miss this moment most of all. They lay in bed, tired from a day of outrunning the Carrows and tossing charms at dummies in DA practice.

Ginny was curled up beside him, half draped on him, and warm. He was flat, hugging the small of her back, staring up at the ceiling of his bed.

"Knut for your thoughts," she offered, resting her cheek on his chest.

"Close call today," he said, thinking of the way she'd run down the corridor, the way he'd gone round to head them off and they'd caught the luck of a staircase change. Sometimes it felt like the castle wanted to help them. In hindsight he knew that probably was the case.

She stroked along the hair of his forearm, expelled a soft breath on his pajama-clad chest. "Close," she agreed, turning to rest her chin on his chest.

Neville would remember the way her hair looked in the dim light of the evening. She was such a constant now, his best friend, his partner in crime. She and Luna, but at night Luna wasn't in the Gryffindor Tower, so it was just them in the bed. They laughed in bed, told stories, planned battles. With his curtains drawn and the two beds beside him empty. He'd memorized every inch of her face.

"Neville," Ginny whispered, her voice soft and heavy at the same time, her eyes flicking to his. Neville knew, even at the time, that he would miss this moment most of all. 

It was the last minute before they crossed the line from comforting each other as friends to being lovers, and being lovers made everything tougher and sadder and more complex.

Ginny sat up clumsily, raising her face above his as her hair fell to the side.

"Close," she whispered again, and pressed her lips against his boldly. _She so warm,_ he thought. _Everything about her._ His hand at her waist and her lips on his.

"Ginny," he mewled, pulling back with fear, pressing his forehead against hers because he can't not touch her now.

"Neville," she gnawed at her lower lip, looking very much a picture of girlish seduction.

"We shouldn't," his voice croaked in the dim and he wants to kick himself for voicing it.

"We have to," she replied, and that's the end of the debate. Her lips were on his and things rolled from there. 

They made love in the dark, her clawing at his back as she bit her lip to keep from sighing. Neville would remember every minute of it. He would remember the indescribable pleasure of being buried within her, the dizzy feeling of his blood gone south, the wet warm depths of her quim, tight and drawing him in. 

He would remember the pink circle of her nipple, the freckles of her breast, and her soft gasps of his name when he let his fingertips trace over them.

He would remember it all. And in the morning, naked under the sheets that smelled like her, he knew he could never go back to the way things were before, no matter how much pressing ahead felt like wading into the cold darkness of a long midnight.


End file.
